


The Writing on the Wall

by Yatorihell



Series: In The Darkness [18]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling, ノラガミ | Noragami
Genre: Multi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-06
Updated: 2017-10-06
Packaged: 2019-01-09 13:36:40
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,236
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12277602
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Yatorihell/pseuds/Yatorihell
Summary: Things take a turn for the worst at Hogwarts when a terrifying incident leaves the school shocked.Thank you Kayla (Pahndah) for beta-ing me <3





	The Writing on the Wall

Christmas holidays were the same as the previous year; Hiyori’s parents were working, Yato wanted to stay, and Yukine didn’t say anything about going home. The first weekend of break turning into lazy days of relaxation, interrupted by an impromptu snowball fight on the vast grounds at the back of the castle when Yato challenged them.

The bare branches of the Whomping Willow cracked the sky, the clouds obscuring the sun looking as if they could drop a metre of snow and muffle the world in a peaceful blanket for the duration of winter until spring arrived and thawed the castle. A drop of blue fire contained in a jam jar, provided by Hiyori, sat on the edge of their makeshift playing field, burning though there was no wick nor air to sustain it and melting the surrounding snow.

As usual, Hiyori and Yukine teamed up against Yato to pelt snowballs at him. Yato – deeming this unfair – whipped out his wand to amass an army of snowballs to fire back at them when they started running, showing no mercy until they were breathless and soaked to the skin.

Doubled over with hats askew and cheeks burning with frostbite that their scarves failed to keep out, Hiyori and Yukine listened to Yato’s triumph which their burning lungs couldn’t protest.

After a moment Hiyori heard Yukine straighten up with an exhalation barely audible over Yato’s voice. She half expected him to want a rematch, but instead he said something else.

“Look over there.”

He was looking towards the Whomping Willow, seeing something that both Yato and Hiyori had to squint to make out against the black trunk until it turned their way, green eyes clearly visible through its grey fur.

“A cat?” Hiyori sounded surprised. Seeing any normal creature alone was a rarity at Hogwarts besides those who had owls, domesticated cats, or toads as familiars. However, this cat looked as if it had been dragged through the mud and not been brushed for a year, its once fluffy fur now matted in clumps.

“It’s kinda cute,” Yukine admitted as the bedraggled fur ball stood up and swished its tail, sauntering around the Whomping Willow on light feet and vanishing from sight.

“It’s manky,” Yato said with disgust, packing another snowball whilst Yukine’s attention was diverted and trying to keep his footsteps from crunching too loudly as he snuck up on him.

Yukine’s retort about Yato looking no better than a grindylow was cut short when Yato yanked his scarf upwards and shoved the ice-solid snowball down his coat, getting caught at the small of his back where it connected with the skin between jumper and jeans.

The screech and short jig that followed as Yukine tried to dislodge the snowball from his coat sent Yato into fits of laughter, whilst Hiyori struggled to stop her giggles with her gloved hands, feeling bad but also being entertained at the sight of Yukine reeling back around to fling what was left of the snowball at Yato. It sailed right past his head but still provoked another snowball war, dirty play now fair game when Hiyori rounded on Yato from behind whilst he was distracted, letting her shot hit its target in the middle of his back to his outcry of unfairness.

The cat, now atop the slope to the castle, regarded the scene in disdain. With a final swish of its dirt-clad tail, it slunk close to the arched wall into the castle grounds.

It was time.

 

~

 

Yato brushed snow from his hair and shivered at the rush of warmth the fire provided when he stepped into the common room, knocking his feet to shake the snow powder before padding into the room.

The dorms were practically empty at this time of year, especially when night fell and the castle was left barren of life, though Yato didn’t protest as he found the quiet of Slytherin’s cavernous common room much more welcoming than when it was full of students. The green velvet drapes which lined the portraits masquerading as midnight scenery in their dungeon pit were nearly black, only lit up by the fireplace which filled a good portion of the wall as it was their only source of light and heating, aside from candles.

“Good evening Yaboku.”

An unexpected voice called out from the seemingly empty room until Yato paced forward and his eyes fell on the tall, gothic armchair. Nora, curled comfortably with her feet tucked under her, looked up at him with a faint smile that didn’t reach her eyes when she met his.

“Don’t call me that,” Yato turned away, running his hand through his hair once again as he made his way to the spiral staircase that would take him to the boys’ dorms. He had no intention of exchanging bitter retorts, but it didn’t stop Nora from sending a jibe at him.

“Having fun with the mudbloods?”

A pause.

“They’re not mudbloods.” Yato said quietly.

“Have you gone soft?” her short, light laugh contained a hint of contempt which showed in her voice when she spoke, as if accusing him of not having the same disgusted view on muggleborns as her.

He may have had them once, being raised in such a place where even the word was considered heresy against all wizards; a cordial way of discriminating against those who did not come from what people still believed to be ‘pure bloodlines’. ‘Mudblood’ was seen as a more fitting choice as the people who persecuted them were now defiling their history – their legacy – with their blood, not thinking about the consequences that led to wizards shutting their world off, only for it to start breaking apart piece by piece with every drop of dirty blood that tainted their race.

He knew better than that now. There was no such thing as pure blood – not really. And he wasn’t ‘soft’ for treating his peers as his equals. He didn’t need to answer to her.

“Father isn’t happy,” Nora offhandedly said to the silence Yato met her with.

“He never is,” Yato snapped back. The phrase was getting tedious, and so was she. The same conversation over and over, around and around until she had said too much and disappeared before he could get an answer.

He turned his head over his shoulder when Nora didn’t reply, seeing that she was staring into the fireplace, warm light shining upon her stoic expression and throwing dark shadows across her face which melded into her hair. Her arms were now wound around her knees, eyes fixed at a point in the fireplace beyond the flames and crackling wood.

“You should’ve come home,” she said softly.

Her quiet voice was the honest one, Yato had worked out after years of companionship. It was lower because it was the wrong voice, the one that she shouldn’t listen to because it was right. Maybe she knew that, but it never showed when she spoke in the voice that didn’t get her in trouble; the one that subtly threatened and manipulated those she spoke to the way she was doing now.

“It looks like I get watched wherever I go anyway,” Yato answered.

They both knew it was no secret that he hadn't left the sights of those he escaped, yet for some reason they weren't determined to bring him back no matter what.

Conveniently, Nora was their eyes now.

“Well I had to keep an eye on you,” there was a pause before she added, “especially after you snuck into the library.”

Yato’s forehead creased. _How did she know about that? They were alone…_

That night flashed through his head - Yato, listening intently to Kugaha and Takemikazuchi, and Hiyori, tugging his sleeve with a warning he silenced. He never asked what was wrong, but thinking back on her panicked voice, maybe she was trying to tell him that someone was there. That they were being followed. Or rather, she was.

“Is it just me you like to follow, or do you have other prey?” he asked, already knowing what the answer would be.

A ghost of a smile found its way onto Nora’s lips. “I like to see what your little friends are up to now and then.”

She untucked her legs and stood up. She barely reached Yato’s shoulder when she silently brushed past him, her elongated shadow cast on the flagstones of the chamber and gliding after her towards the staircase.

He didn’t turn, but Yato spoke with apprehension, fearing that the worst answer would no doubt be the one he would get. “What’s happening with that chamber?”

The quiet padding of her bare feet on stone ceased when she spoke. “You know exactly what’s happening.”

Yato felt his chest tighten, trying not to let the dread show on his face even though he couldn’t see whether Nora was looking at him or not.

“We’ll be together again soon,” she said softly. The tap of feet on stairs resumed, quickly paced, but just low enough for Yato to hear her afterthought delivered like a warning.

“Look out for the spiders.”

 

~

 

A trail of spiders marched along the floor, scaling the low wall and vanishing through a crack under the thin pane of glass. All was dark except for the torchlight that shone on a horrific scene that not even his nightmares could’ve conjured.

Two boys – one frozen in horror, the other paralysed in all senses of the word – were alone in the barren hallway. Above them, fresh with droplets of scarlet which ran and dripped over the stone carvings, a warning was smeared in bold letters.

_The Chamber of Secrets has been opened. Enemies of the Heir… beware._

 

~

 

Yukine walked through the castle in a stupor. The students that had returned from Christmas break were sparsely seated in the Great Hall, sitting in clumps as they picked over breakfast and muttered between themselves.

News spreads fast.

He barely heard Hiyori call for him when he lingered at the main doors, already half-turned away and nauseous at the thought of eating. Heavy legs took him a few metres away before he had to stop and steady himself to keep from keeling over, but by then there was a quickening of paired footsteps behind him and his name was being said once more.

There was a blurred, dark shape in the corner of his vision and a hand on his back, light and careful. The muffled white noise that had filled his ears lessened until he could make out the once unintelligible string of words that were being spoken to him, asking him if he’s ok.

Of course he wasn’t.

The only things that he could think of, what anyone could think of, was him – but they didn’t see it the way he did. A body rigid with pure fear; wide green eyes like a doll, smatterings of dark freckles that contrasted with pale skin, and a shock of dark hair.

_Suzuha…_

“They called it ‘petrification’,” he heard Yato explain. His voice was lower, more regardful, with a grave tone.

A near-imperceptible shudder went through Yukine as he tried to suppress the image that flashed through his head for the thousandth time since he came to and found his friend. He felt the hand gently rub his back before moving away when Yukine held himself up, eyes downcast.

“I told you that something was going to happen,” Yato’s voice tuned back in as he hissed about his speculation being true, but Hiyori refuted and told him that they didn’t know who was behind this.

“It doesn’t matter now,” Yukine’s voice was hollow. Yato and Hiyori looked at him and fell silent, their sympathy written all over their face.

“I’m sorry…” Hiyori said. Her hands wrung the hem of her jumper as the silence drew out. No one knew what to say, or what they could say, to console him. Some things just can’t be comforted, and seeing your best friend as the picture of death is one of them.

Yato moved around from behind Hiyori so that he faced both of them head on, his eyebrows knitted and expression drawn. 

“Don’t go anywhere alone,” his voice was stern when he looked between the two of them, “neither of you.”

Yukine nodded dully, clearly spaced out and not needing to be told twice after witnessing petrification first-hand. Hiyori on the other hand looked ready to protest.

“This isn’t going to happen again,” her voice was calm, as if not realising the full extent of the situation; or perhaps she was trying to fool herself. “It must’ve been an accident –,”

“Don’t you get it?!” Yato snapped, his hands clamped on Hiyori’s arms and holding her tightly in place. “Did you forget what I told you about…?!”

Yato let out a breath, suppressing himself to keep from raising his voice when Hiyori’s eyes widened, soon hardening to give him a defiant glare. “Did you forget that the only thing that can do _that_ to someone is the same thing that wants you dead?! The creature from the Chamber of Secrets?!”

“I’m going to be fine,” she cast a sidelong glance at Yukine, who was watching this with eyes shadowed and flicking from the near-closed space between the pair to the tight grip of Yato’s hands on Hiyori shoulders.

Hiyori raised her hands and forcefully brushed away Yato.

“ _We’re_ going to be fine.”

**Author's Note:**

> I listened to Sam Smith’s ‘Writings on the Wall’ when writing this I’m not even sorry.


End file.
